Holding Everything
by WhatsABriard
Summary: The evening of their engagement was cool and crisp. The ubiquitous London fog rolled in, gobbling up the Thames, and then the Tower Bridge, filling the streets with damp quiet.


Holding Everything

_The Harts first night together post-engagement. There isn't a whole lot of "missing scene" fic in this fandom. So when in doubt? Write it yourself. _

_Dear RONA II, Stefanie, RJ and the rest of the gang: I need Seasons 3, 4 & 5 on DVD. Yesterday. Please stop torturing me. Youtube only takes me so far. _

_Dear Hart Fandom: Plz write more. I need something to do while I wait for the final three seasons. Thx._

_And now on with the show..._

The evening of their engagement was cool and crisp. The ubiquitous London fog rolled in, gobbling up the Thames, and then the Tower Bridge, filling the streets with damp quiet.

They took their time in the murky darkness, the only sounds the click of Jennifer's heels and their breathing, perfectly in sync. She was tucked up against his side, both hands folded into the crook of his elbow. Their eyes were straight forward as they wandered the streets, but each was keenly aware of the other.

Like their footsteps, their thoughts were in a rare kind of synchrony.

On an impulse, a rare wild and emotional decision, Jonathan had proposed. Hugely. He would never admit it, least of all to Jennifer, but it had been an act partially rooted in fear. Fear that this woman would leave his life and never return. He lived a charmed life these days, but in the shadows of his childhood was the reminder that people leave, and sometimes they don't come back. But mostly, and most importantly, it was simply the way he did business. See, want, make happen. You don't build a fortune without ambition, and Jennifer Edwards had become his ultimate ambition.

On an impulse, a less rare wild and emotional decision, Jennifer had accepted. Knowing, believing, that this was right. She spent her life trying to walk a balance between sheer impulse and genuine good idea, and sometimes she was worse for the choice she made. But this? No question. Temper and fear had melted away with one unfurling banner, leaving only behind excitement and anticipation. You don't become a star reporter by playing it safe, and Jonathan Hart had become her ultimate adventure.

They returned to his hotel without words and with the gold warmth of the lobby she relaxed her chilled grip on Jonathan's arm. He gave her a sidelong glance and she returned it with a grin, slipping her palm into his and twining their fingers.

In the elevator she rested her head on his shoulder, the excitement and adrenaline of the last few days finally subsiding, leaving her relaxed and a bit weary. Jonathan looked down on her auburn head when she hefted a long, quiet sigh.

"If you're too tired, I can have Max take you to your hotel..." Jonathan said, sounding more convicted than he actually felt. He never wanted to lose sight of her again, even for something as simple as retrieving her luggage.

He'd told her earlier that evening to leave it, they'd replace it all. A new wardrobe, anyplace she wanted. The urge to spoil her, give her anything she asked, was strong. Most of the women he'd known would have been dumbfounded, thrilled, and dragged him to Harrods before he'd finished the sentence. Jennifer, however, had been flabbergasted at his extravagance and scoffed quietly.

"That's silly, Jonathan. My clothes are perfectly adequate and only a few blocks away." The look she'd given him was part confused, part bemused. "You don't think I'm marrying you for your money, do you?"

His head shake was quick."No, no," he brought her fingers to his lips. "It's just that I want to spend every moment with you."

"Awww," she cooed, kissing his nose. "That's sweet. But unnecessary. We'll go collect my things in the morning. I'll even let you come with me."

And so they'd gone to dinner, talking away the hours, already old friends. They drank champagne (but this time, not too much) and held onto one another through the fog.

Forever, they each decided, would start tonight.

The living area of Jonathan's suite was empty, a single lamp burning in the corner. Either Max had retired early, or he had found an all-night game. Either way, it left them both standing too-close in the middle of the suite, staring at one another intently.

Jonathan realized with a start that he was nervous. He wasn't exactly sure where his nerves were coming from, either. It wasn't as though he was any stranger to having a beautiful woman in his hotel room. It wasn't even much of an oddity to have a woman in his hotel room with Max possibly in the suite next door. Perhaps, he thought as he gazed down at Jennifer, perhaps he'd mistaken nerves for anticipation. He'd desired women in the past, had strong feelings for them. But this night, these feelings, made everything he'd experienced before a shadow. And when Jennifer smiled softly at him, he knew that was it.

Jennifer, to her credit, didn't look the least bit ruffled as she shrugged out of her coat. She turned quickly and pecked Jonathan's cheek before sweeping into the guest bathroom, promising to be out in a minute.

Inside she lowered the toilet lid and sat down, willing her racing heart to slow. She rubbed her hands together to restore warmth to her finger tips. She wasn't so much nervous as she was...expectant? Terrified? Half mad with elation and desire? She had no misgivings about the course she was on with Jonathan, but she wouldn't be the woman she spent her entire life becoming if she didn't at least take a moment to take stock of what she was giving up.

She was a reporter and, she believed, she always would be. Jonathan showed no interest, at least so far, in curbing her career. Of course, 2 days wasn't necessarily a reflection of their entire lives (who gets involved with a murder every time they turn around?), but they'd spent the entire afternoon talking and he was supportive of her endeavors. Asking her to change had never even been hinted at, and she was excellent at interpreting what wasn't said.

She was a New Yorker. Or more specifically, an east coaster. For all the jetsetting she'd done since graduated from college, she had never lived more than a handful of hours from her father for more than a month or two. She had a studio apartment in Manhattan that was only a day's train ride from the farm. Beverly Hills was...an entire world away from everything she'd known. And yet her father had instilled in her from childhood that home wasn't necessarily a place you could leave behind. He spent more of her childhood abroad than he had in the States and she never felt deprived, not once. Living in California wouldn't be much different, she decided. And her apartment? Well, she could keep it for their visits to the big apple. Or sell it. She found she really had no emotional reaction to either outcome.

Her father was her final consideration, and she twisted her fingers together at the thought of explaining the last 3 days and her impending marriage. On the whole, Stephen Edwards trusted his only child's decisions, having spent her entire life reinforcing her strong moral fiber, an adventurous spirit, a titanium strength of character and the freedom and ability to love intensely. His faith in her wobbled precipitously when she took up with Elliot Manning, but righted when she'd cut him out of her life completely. Jonathan, she worried, would be painted with the same brush as Elliot.

In the end, she simply had to trust her own intuition, Jonathan and more importantly, her father. Whatever misgivings all of them held, they would rely on their love for one another. It would, she somehow knew, be enough.

When she finally emerged from the bathroom, warm and loose and filled with delicious anticipation, Jonathan was stretched on the couch, his arm across his eyes.

"I'm not asleep," Jonathan murmured, sensing her presence as well as the thought on her mind. "I'm not going to miss this again."

When he moved his arm it was to see Jennifer purposely crossing the floor towards him, her ridiculous heels slung from her fingers. She dropped them on the floor beside the couch and with a swift motion, lifted herself to straddle Jonathan's knees. Her dress, a shimmer of deep blue sequins, had the perfect slit in the side to allow her position as well as to give Jonathan a tantalizing view of her thigh. She bent over his chest to kiss him, wrapping her fingers around his wrist and pinning it to the arm of the couch behind his head.

Through the course of the day they had kissed, and often. On a leisurely drive to check out the sights, they had cuddled in the back seat of the rented Bentley and necked like teenagers. At dinner, overcome with delight at Jennifer's wicked sense of humor, he'd kissed her over creme brulee. And yet this was different.

This kiss was just the start of something permanent. Forever.

Her lips slanted against his and a palm to the small of her back had her tumbling full across his chest. Jennifer let out a smoky giggle and captured his cheeks with her palms. Her expression, slightly muzzy from the champagne, was comically serious.

"I do love you." She murmured, her eyes filled with concern and tinged with wonder. Could it possibly be normal to feel this way?

"And I do love you." Jonathan reassured her, and for a long time, they didn't speak at all.

It was the appearance of Max, sleep rumpled and a bit dazed, wandering through the living area that put the breaks on what was becoming a very heated moment.

He didn't even spare the couple a second glance as he limped into the kitchen, one eye closed against the light.

"Sorry, Mr H, Miss Edwards." He mumbled on the way to the kitchenette. The sound of cupboards and a glass rattling was followed by the woosh of the faucet. When Max appeared again it was with a glass of water and he didn't pause on the way back to his bedroom. "Don't mind me."

WThe door clicked shut behind him and Jennifer giggled into Jonathan's chest, which she'd bared only minutes before. His hands extricated themselves from the split in her dress and she sat up. They spared a few moments straightening their clothes, the silence heavy with embarrassment. When they made eye contact, they dissolved into helpless laughter and Jennifer threw her arms around his neck.

"Take me to bed, darling." She whispered against his neck, and the momentary silliness was broken.

They didn't bother with too many lights in the bedroom, a single bedside lamp spilled enough golden light to make the room comfortable and just a bit romantic. At the dressing table Jennifer removed her earrings, flashing a smile at Jonathan's reflection in the mirror.

His hands, whispers against her hip, settled lightly as he watched her pull pins from her hair.

"You are so beautiful." He said, a hint of reverence and wonder in his tone.

When she laughed it was a low rumble, a mixture of amusement and desire. He loved the timber of her voice. Not nasal or grating, but rich and velvet. Warm. It drifted across his skin in laughter and pleasure as he slid the zipper of her dress down.

She tilted her head to watch him, neither embarrassed nor nervous. As the material pooled around her ankles, she was deeply pleased at Jonathan's groan of delight. She was not particularly vain, but she would be lying if she said she didn't appreciate being..well, appreciated. And Jonathan's gaze seemed to devour her, from the delicate lace covering her breasts, to the plain and slightly boring panties.

And yet he stared and her laughter was back, giddy and delicious, turning in his embrace and pushing the shirt from his shoulders in one swift movement. His hands barely had time to rest against the skin of her back when she was pushing him backwards towards the bed, her hands fisted in the waistband of his trousers.

When her lips closed over the pulse in his neck it tripled.

It wasn't very long until there was no thought at all.

The morning after the night they became engaged dawned crisp, cool and clear. The couple slept peacefully, twined together as the sun rose and filled their bedroom with a rosy glow. They would sleep in that day, and breakfast with Max. Whatever embarrassment would dissolve as Max began the role he would play until the end of his life - taking care of both of them.

When they would leave the hotel that day it would be arm in arm. They would pick up Jennifer's clothing, make flight arrangements and, because Jonathan insisted, they would visit Harrod's.

The rented Bentley would be filled with laughter and friendship and when they held hands, they both knew.

They held everything.


End file.
